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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966661">Stay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeonwrites/pseuds/aeonwrites'>aeonwrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vikings (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autism Spectrum, Autistic!Ragnar, Christmas, Comfort, Non-Verbal Character, Sensory Overload, athelstan is a wonderful person, the author actually has autism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:42:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966661</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeonwrites/pseuds/aeonwrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ragnar is autistic and Christmas time is hard</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Athelstan &amp; Ragnar Lothbrok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! a quick disclaimer that i am diagnosed with asperger's syndrome. and while every autistic person is different, this is how i often experience the world :)<br/>my autism causes me to be hypersensitive of my surroundings, which means i often experience sensory overload and then i just shut down, sometimes even going non-verbal. i also struggle with emotions and tone, which is why i put a lot of exclamation marks and emoticons on everytthing and sometimes i use tone indicators :)<br/>this story also refers to safe fabrics/tastes/smells which i also all have because as i mentioned, i am hypersensitive on every sensory canal.<br/>if you have read my other vikings story you might have figured out that my safe smells are earthy scents like sandalwood and musk, just as a quick funfact :)</p><p>anyway, i headcanon ragnar as autistic because he showed many behaviours throughout the show that reminded me of myself and i just wanted to entertain this idea.</p><p>depending on how this is received i might turn this into an ongoing story, that why the chapter option is open :)</p><p>and now, have fun :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All he had wanted were incense sticks and tea. Nothing more, nothing less. A quick run to the small spiritual shop in the mall. Easy enough, Ragnar had thought. But his day had not been great to begin with and it was Christmas time and now everything was just <em> too much </em>. </p><p>The fabric of his hoodie scratched against his skin (it was <em> not </em>his safe-hoodie, Rollo had forced him to wash it because he had been wearing it for a month straight). His left sock sat slightly higher than the right and one shoe was tighter than the other. His trousers rubbed uncomfortably against his calves and thighs and it felt like a thousand thorns were prickling under his skin. </p><p>Ten different Christmas songs sounded out of the shops at the same time, the typical sound of Christmas bells made him want to sew his ear canals shut. The sensation was made infinitely worse by the buzzing of the electric pulses that zapped through his brain in his ears. </p><p>A million different smells entered his nose all at once. Candy floss, roasted almonds, candied apples. Sugary sweet and heavy in the air. It was asphyxiating, as if his lungs were suddenly unable to absorb the oxygen in the air. </p><p>Colourful lights flashed on and off, creating words and images too bright for him to process. Too quick and too bright to even look at. His head was spinning as he tried to take it all in.</p><p>People rushed past Ragnar. Talking and laughing loudly, bringing the heavy scents closer to him, colours flashing before his eyes as they passed him. Everything was just <em> too much </em>. </p><p>Ragnar’s noise cancelling headphones had run out of battery, charging at home along with his phone. He had not even brought a fidget toy with him, thinking it would just take a few minutes. He would be <em> fine </em>. But now all he wanted to do was curl up in a corner, push his hands over his ears and squeeze his eyes shut.</p><p>Someone bumped against him, shouting a quick sorry as they hurried on but the quick touch was too much. The small but quick changes in temperature on his shoulder, the shift of his hoodie caused by the impact. Ragnar could do nothing but stand there, nibbling on his fingernails to distract himself. His eyes darted around trying to find <em> anything </em> that was comforting but everything was too bright and too loud. </p><p>Bits and pieces of conversations floated around in his brain, the ground was swaying beneath his feet and his head spun with the sensory onslaught. </p><p>Keeping his head down, still chewing his fingernails, he wormed through a crowd of people, careful not to touch anyone. Ragnar sat down in the small corner created by the escalator, pressing himself against the wall.</p><p>He pulled his knees to his chest, laying his forehead against them. There was a metallic taste in his mouth. He had chewed his nails bloody, he knew, but it was a comforting taste. Not quite his safe taste but at least familiar. Ragnar squeezed his eyes shut, glad that he could prevent at least some of the sensory input from assaulting his brain but the sounds and smells became more intense.</p><p>He should have just stayed home, Ragnar thought as he gently rocked back and forth in the corner, feeling the blood drip down his hand. A horrible addition to the already uncomfortable feeling of his clothes against his skin. </p><p>“Hey!”, a voice sounded in his ears. It was too close to try to ignore but it was a pleasant frequency. Not too high pitched and at a quiet volume that did not feel like someone took a sledgehammer to Ragnar’s ear drums. He slowly raised his head, looking at whoever had decided to talk to him. </p><p>Ragnar was not attacked with another onslaught of colours. Instead, he was met with pale blue eyes and a warm smile. The man in front of him thankfully was wearing black, with headphones hanging around his neck in the same colour. His hair was a dark brown, falling gently into his face. He was quiet and calm and Ragnar was glad to have a focus point. </p><p>“A bit much?”, he asked quietly. Ragnar wanted to answer, the words forming in his brain but his throat would not comply so he just resorted to nodding. </p><p>“No worries”, the man assured him. He moved slowly as he took the headphones from his neck, making sure that Ragnar could see every move. The sounds around him became muted as the man placed the headphones onto Ragnar’s ears — noise-cancelling, just like the ones at home. There was no song playing but they still filtered a great part of the noise. Ragnar sighed in relief, shooting a quick smile at the man kneeling in front of him. </p><p>Seemingly out of nowhere, the man pulled out pen and paper, as if he had realised that Ragnar had trouble speaking. Ragnar often caught himself thinking that it was childish to become non-verbal when he was overwhelmed. He knew it was common for people like him. Neurodivergent people. But years of teachers and students trying to deny the way he experienced the world had left marks that were not easy to cover up. </p><p><em> I’m Athelstan. Do you want to go outside? </em>The man — Athelstan — had turned the notepad toward him so that he could read the words. Ragnar carefully pointed at the pen. Athelstan gave it to him, his smile never faltering. </p><p><em> Ragnar. Yes, please, </em>he simply wrote on the note, handing it back to Athelstan. </p><p><em> Alright, hold on to my backpack so that you don’t get lost </em>, Athelstan wrote. Ragnar nodded and he pocketed the notepad again. </p><p>They both came to their feet and Ragnar found that the floor was slightly steadier than before but still, the flashing lights hurt his eyes, the smells assaulted his nostrils and his clothes did not feel right.</p><p>He gripped the strap of Athelstan’s backpack tightly, following him as he skillfully moved through the crowds without being distracted or overwhelmed by his environment. Ragnar kept his gaze focused on the chipped black nail polish and the blood on his hands but the lights were still flashing aggressively in the periphery of his vision and the thick sugary smell still hung in the air. </p><p>And then, in an instant, it was all gone. The lights were gone, the — thankfully muffled — noise was gone, and the air was fresh and light again. Ragnar took a deep, freeing breath, almost crashing to his knees in relief. Athelstan’s arms wrapped around him before he could drop, but thankfully, the man pulled back quickly once Ragnar was steady again. </p><p>Ragnar took the headphones from his ears, looking around. They were at the back of the mall. It was night already and only a single streetlamp emitted a soft yellow glow. He could hear the distant sound of cars, the whirring of the air-conditioning and as always, the electric currents buzzing in his brain. The world stopped spinning around him as his body could finally take in every stimuli and process them correctly.</p><p>His eyes found Athelstan. “Thank you”, he whispered. Talking was still hard as he was just coming out of his melt-down but it worked when he put his entire focus on it. </p><p>“Yeah, no worries”, Athelstan smiled at him. He still kept his voice low and Ragnar was glad that his ears were still able to recover. </p><p>The only problem now consisted of his clothes. His hoodie and jeans still were made out of the wrong fabric, and they smelled wrong too. His boots and socks were still uneven and his skin was still strangely itchy.</p><p>“Are you alright?”, Athelstan asked softly. Ragnar shrugged, once again chewing on his already bloody fingers. Athelstan hummed softly and nodded, seemingly deep in thought.</p><p>“Is there anything I can do for you?”, he asked, making sure to enunciate every word. Ragnar stared at him for a moment. It was hard to tell if Athelstan was being genuine. He sounded like it but over the course of the years Ragnar had learned that there were small nuances in tones, gestures and facial expressions that could indicate the opposite. It seemed to be obvious to other people and no one had ever bothered explaining it to him, so he had no clue what to look for. His head hurt thinking about it and so he simply decided that Athelstan was trustworthy. </p><p>Speaking had not gotten any easier the past few minutes. He struggled to even speak a single word. </p><p>“Stay?”, he whispered and Athelstan smiled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yeah, so! please tell me if you liked it and if you would like to read more :)</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985408">Patience. Patience, Patience.</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bjorn_Haraldson/pseuds/Bjorn_Haraldson">Bjorn_Haraldson</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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